


Slip of the Tongue

by Calyah



Series: Calyah's Solavellan Drabbles and Prompts [5]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 10:11:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3171023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calyah/pseuds/Calyah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas overindulges at Halamshiral and heads to the library to clear his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slip of the Tongue

As she glided around the grand hall and flitted from dignitary to dignitary, Solas could not keep his eyes from stealing glances her way. Florianne had been dispatched and the Empress was safe, rendering Lavellan once again the confidently elegant and powerful figure that seemed to garner the attention and curiosity of the whole room. It was an immensely enjoyable thing to witness, despite how much of a nervous act on her part he knew it to be. 

The laughter she shared with the small group of nobles across the hall carried sweetly to his ears, causing him to smile.

“Enjoying the view, Chuckles?”

Varric came to stand beside him at his position along the banister. He, too, was looking out towards Lavellan as she mingled with the Orlesian court.

“Yes,” Solas replied with a slight laugh after taking another sip of his drink, “she presents a lovely image, does she not? So free with her smiles. The shifting of the gown. The drape of the fabrics against her skin. Each subtle movement that allows the varying shades of her hair to glint in the light. It is certainly a pleasurable sight to behold.”

Solas’ smile instantly slipped and the tips of his ears heated with embarassment, when he realized the words that had left his mouth. He had not intended to share such a deeply personal musing aloud, let alone with Varric, the dwarf widely recognized as the Inquisition’s resident gossip. His affection for Lavellan and hers for him were already the source of much talk, and he was sure there would only be more on account of his unthinking remarks. 

Shifting his gaze, Solas narrowed his eyes at Varric’s knowing smirk.

“Oh, please, go on,” Varric said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Solas scowled and pushed himself away from the banister without a word. He hastily made his way through the throngs of people, hoping to reach some hidden spot of solitude and trying his best to ignore the sound of Varric’s raucous laughter lingering in his ears.

Perhaps he should have been less obvious with his attention. Or not allowed his mind to wander so easily. In truth, it was that he should not have had that last glass of flowery Orlesian wine. Even if the effects were slight, letting his mind become addled with drink at all was a risky and foolish thing to do. His thoughts were coming to him unfiltered and, apparently, spoken with little discretion. He should have kept to his silent observations and frilly cakes.

Placing his glass on a passing tray, he pushed his way through a set of doors and into the quiet of the abandoned library. It would be better to be alone and away from the crowds while his head cleared. He certainly did not want to reveal anything of consequence. He was reluctant to admit, too, that it would be better to hole himself away and avoid Lavellan altogether. With each sip of wine, he had found his gaze lingering more often on her beautiful face and figure, and his mind slipping further into memories of their more intimate encounters together, a completely improper thing to do given their task and purpose at the ball. He was not sure how well he would be able to hide such thoughts if she were to come near in his current, inebriated state. Their dance on the balcony had been sweet and romantic and an effort to dispel the stress the evening had wrought upon her. He did not want to spoil that by behaving brutishly.

“So, this is where you decided to skulk off to.”

Solas turned sharply at the teasing words. Lavellan was smiling at him coyly and slowly closed the door behind her with a soft click.

“I simply desired some quiet,” he replied, hiding his real reasons and settling himself next to a tall bookcase. ”Though endlessly fascinating to observe, courtly intrigue does remain a taxing charade, as I am sure you are now well aware.”

Lavellan grinned and slinked over to him, her mood obviously playful.

“Oh?” she said with a teasing lilt to her voice before bringing her lips into a mock pout. “I was hoping you were trying to lure me into the shadows for some decidedly inappropriate fun.”

Solas smiled at her words and manner. Perhaps it was the wine or his blossoming love for the elven woman before him, or both, but he could not help but be affected by her mood. Momentarily forgetting his earlier turmoil, he reached out and pulled her close.

“Is that so?” he asked, letting his hands come to rest gently on her hips.

“After all that’s happened tonight, I am feeling rather in need of a celebration.” She dipped her chin and looked at him seductively. “And a release.”

Solas felt his heart speed up at her words, more memories coming unbidden to the forefront of his thoughts. Did she not realize what she stirred in him? Or perhaps she did and the alcohol had simply lessened his defenses against such an assault.

Lavellan just giggled at his expression and brought her arms up to drape them over his shoulders. Giving him a smirk, she trailed her fingers across the back of his neck and down his arms before splaying them across his chest. Solas let out a surprised grunt when in the next instant, she pushed hard and sent him back roughly into the bookshelf.

He didn’t have long to be surprised, though, when almost immediately her body was pressed tightly against him and her lips were on his, her tongue dipping enticingly into his mouth.

Solas groaned at the sensation, not quite caring anymore about where they were or his earlier determination to remain a respectable distance from her whilst the effects of the alcohol wore away. Instead, he let his hands land on her hips and travel lower over the swell of her backside, before gripping her tightly and tugging her close. He felt consumed by her passionate embrace, oblivious and uncaring of whom might see.

Solas’ fuzzy thoughts soon cleared, though. Disengaging himself from her insisting hands and mouth, he reluctantly stepped away.

“Vhenan,” he said hoarsely, “this is not the place, nor the right state of mind. For either of us. I have overindulged…”

Lavellan pulled back and raised her eyebrows, her snorting laugh cutting off any further words he may have spoken.

“You’re drunk?” she asked with a smile and set her eyes over his form in a more critically appraising glance.

Solas frowned.

“Hardly,” he scoffed and tried to hide any sign of his state, mildly embarrassed at his admission. “However, I would prefer not to take advantage of your amorous mood. Not in such a public setting and certainly not when my mind is anything but perfectly clear.”

Lavellan’s smile softened and she dropped her hands back to her side.

“Always so polite, even in intoxication,” she teased.

Solas opened his mouth in retort, but could not think of anything suitable to say. He _had_ taken in too much wine. He would not deny it and perhaps cause her attentions to continue. Her body, so supple and willing, would be impossible to refuse again, and he certainly did not want her to feel as if she had taken advantage of his state, or he hers.

“Okay,” she continued and wrapped her arms once more around his neck, seemingly doing her best to hide any disappointment she felt. “Let’s go rejoin the party. I’d like one more dance with you before Cullen and Cassandra drag us away, though. That is, if you can manage to stumble your way to the ballroom.”

She laughed gently and stepped back towards the door.

Solas opened his mouth to offer a witty retort to her tease, but the words stopped in his throat. His gaze had landed on her backside, which she had accentuated so enticingly with a deliberate and exaggerated sway of her hips as she made to walk away. Solas’ eyes crinkled mischievously. She was playing her flirtation dangerously and without mind, but she was not the only one who knew the rules to such a game. Feeling the alcohol-induced and ill-advised lack of inhibitions take him once more, he quickly brought his arms around her from behind and bent his mouth to her ear.

“I shall concede to your dance, vhenan, but it will not be our last,” he murmured, his tone husky. “Do not think me too far gone that my mind lacks the capability of memory. I will not soon forget a whispered request and your desire for release. That is a promise.”

He placed a lingering kiss on her neck and let his fingers trail briefly across her thigh, causing a moaning exhale to escape her lips. With a grin, he pulled away. As he made his way through the doorway and back into the ballroom, he glanced back at her stunned and aroused face with a smirk. He was certain she would make him pay later for leaving her in such a state, but at the moment he did not care. Turning his eyes back to the dancing couples on the floor below, he let his mind linger on all the possibilities that lay in store for him once they returned to Skyhold, and on how he might fulfill his promise.

Solas suppressed his grin as he watched Lavellan emerge from the library, her eyes pinning him with a half-hearted glare before she returned to mingling.

Perhaps overindulging and needing to get away had not been such a bad occurrence after all.


End file.
